Once Caged
by GiveMeHeresy
Summary: Bishop didn't picture himself tagging along with Verelle the strange morning they first met, nor did he picture her somehow being the Dragonborn, but he sees a part of himself in the perplexing mage - and that's more terrifying than the dragons.


The deeper parts of Skyrim's forests, far from the worn stone roads and packed cities, may be the last refuge Bishop has. He can bend the wildlife to his wikl with either his bow or his dagger, and there's little noise besides birdsong in the warmer regions. Sometimes, it instills a feeling in him approaching peace.

This is not one of those times.

The ranger trudges through the woodland at a determined pace, shoulders strung and fists clenched with a tension that's burned inside his body for the past few days. A dark hood and mask shield his face, although the only things that surround him are tress and a light fog from the early morning. Even so, Bishop remains on the alert, with his fingers a hair's breadth away from the dagger strapped to his hip.

If luck were on his side, any attackers would be the ones who put him in this state, but the tide has never favored him. He knows their lair is at least a day's trip away nevertheless. Despite his skill and the anger that drives him forward, Bishop knows that waltzing into a bandit camp on his own is practically suicide.

He's not sure if he cares.

With that in mind, Riverwood is on the way to his destination, and the idea of a last round of drinks before his potential death tempts him.

Last.

The thought tightens his throat, and he stops himself in his tracks to lean against the nearest tree with one hand, while he uses the other to wipe the sweat off his brow. The cold steel of his ring brushes against his skin, and a long sigh escapes him. Bishop wishes the frigid air would chill his nerves as much as it does his fingertips.

Every second he wastes here...

A twig snaps close by, and Bishop jerks to attention. His free hand shoots to the hilt of his dagger as his eyes raise to see a figure standing in the clearing ahead of him, faced in the opposite direction with their head raised to the overcast sky -

\- and surrounded by bodies. At least five of them.

Bishop's heart thrums against his chest. The stench of blood permeates the air enough to make his stomach lurch. Was he so distracted that he didn't notice it before? Surely his senses aren't that dulled by his own thoughts.

He draws his blade with as much care as possible, and stands up off the tree.

The figure is still, even as he approaches. Stealth is something he's mastered over the years, but the stillness of the scene unnerves him enough that hes tempted to make himself noticed on purpose. With all the unnatural phenomena in Skyrim, it could be any number of things: a witch, a vampire, some kind of apparition, or maybe even a hallucination. A hood and cloak obscure most detail, but their shoulders raise and lower with slow breathe, so...not a zombie.

They also don't appear to be armed.

Bishop stops a short distance away, and as he does so, something crunches underneath his boot. The figure whips around to face him, the movement so sudden that he curses aloud and yanks the dagger from its sheath. He freezes, knife at the ready, as the hood falls away and reveals the face of a young woman. Fresh blood stains her skin and her eyes widen at the sight of him in evident surprise.

Vampire...no. She's pale enough for it, but her eyes seem normal from a distance, and her face is too full - but looks can be deceiving. His gaze travels down and he sees more blood streaked and stained on their clothes, as well as the bodies at their feet. The corpses are dressed in tattered furs, with their weapons and other belongings strewn on the ground.

Bandits.

The world won't miss them, but...something feels off.

Bishop makes eye contact with the woman again. The shock has left her face, now replaced by a blank expression that unnerves him even further.

"Something the matter?" She asks. Her tone is serene, like there isn't death around her.

He keeps his blade at the ready as the two of them stare each other down. She doesn't appear to be armed from what he can see. Possibly a mage. He can handle mages...although a whole group of bandits somehow couldn't.

"Not sure if you noticed," Bishop says, "but you're covered in blood, and surrounded by dead people."

The woman raises her arms and looks down at herself, then the bodies. Her eyes turn even more distant, as if she forgot they were there.

She meets his eye again. "They accosted me. I hoped that was obvious."

"And you slaughtered all five of them on your own?"

"If you keep pointing that thing at me, I might make it four."

Bishop bares his teeth. "That sounds like a threat."

"Not a threat," she says as she crosses her arms, "a warning. I'm not a threat to you, as long as you don't plan on attacking me."

He wets his lips. Sure, he's dealt with mages before, but he's not sure he wants to tangle with one right now who's not necessarily in his way, that has a fresh body count around her. He hopes they were just shitty bandits.

"So it seems we're at an impasse," he says.

"I can let you walk away as easily as I can walk away myself." There's more conviction in her tone than before. "I'm not afraid of you, I just don't feel like getting stabbed today for defending myself."

Bishop keeps his gaze locked on her as he thinks. Bandits are better off dead, of course. What's the harm in letting her walk away? What's she gonna do, kill more bandits?

She may turn her wrath elsewhere...but even if she does, is it really his problem?

"Fine." Bishop starts to put his dagger back, without looking away from the woman. "None of my business, right?"

Bemusement flashes on her face as she lowers her arms back to her sides, but she says nothing more. Bishop stands up straight and turns to walk in the opposite direction.

"In that case, I've seen nothing." He adjusts the mask on his face, in case it slipped at all. "Try not to attack me from behind though, will you? I will make you regret it."

The woman doesn't respond, which he takes as a sign that she's really not interested in any further conversation.

He expects to hear sudden movement as he turns himself around - a part of him wants it with the rage in his heart he could let out in a good fight, but there's nothing. Out of the corner of his eye, the woman remains still and silent, for better or for worse.

Still on the alert, he walks back the way he came. Once certain that he's alone again, he twists right back around and retraces his steps to the clearing - he still needs to go Riverwood, after all.

Bishop arrives at the clearing again, not a trace of the woman remains.

Or the bodies.

He takes a moment to look up at the sky towards the sea of clouds, as she did, before he puts his out of his mind and continues on his way.


End file.
